


Keep for me your sweetness

by mariathepenguin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1464277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariathepenguin/pseuds/mariathepenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora isn’t the only witch who wants to take over Storybrooke.</p><p> <br/> <i>‘You can blame Rumpelstiltskin,’ Regina says. ‘He made this town a perfect refuge for himself. And his son eventually. It’s an almost perfect location.’ Her lip curls at the mention of Neal, who left town soon after Greg and Tamara had vanished from town and only kept in contact with Henry via phone.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>‘Why can’t we just leave?’ Midas asks. ‘She can have Storybrooke, as far as I’m concerned.’ </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>‘We can’t afford show any weakness. If we do, if she feels she can defeat us, she will find a way to follow us to the Enchanted Forest and continue her attack there,’ the Blue Fairy says. ‘The Witch has been searching for a home for many years now,’ she adds. The Ozzians banished her, Maleficent despises her and no one has tried to take over Wonderland since-’ she glances at Regina, and Snow looks down, her face a picture of innocent despair. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Pablo Neruda’s poem Absence. Also a huge thanks to my beta, [winged_mammal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/winged_mammal/pseuds/winged_mammal), for improving the quality of this fic by at least 100% and being incredibly patient with my writer’s block. Spoilers up to 3x11.
> 
> The fanart for this fic was made by the immensely talented [alinaandalion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alinaandalion/pseuds/alinaandalion)
> 
>   
> **Art by** [alinaandalion](http://alinaandalion.tumblr.com).  
>   
> 

‘This is ridiculous,’ Regina says. She tucks her hands into her coat pocket and scowls.

Pongo whines and ducks his head, and Regina reaches down to rub his ears. They stand for a while longer at the end of the dock, and the stinging wind whips at her skin.

They make their way home when the sky begins to pink with first light, and Pongo keeps close, almost tripping her as they walk. Regina would scold him to make him move, but the rising of the sun has brought with it a yawning sadness that threatens to drive her to her knees if she thinks about it for too long, and Pongo’s clumsy nudging pulls the worst of it away, for a little while.

 

 

*

 

This is what she knows:

Her name is Regina Mills.

She has a dog.

She’s a good lawyer. Not that she has much competition in this town, but it’s still a point of pride.

 

*

 

This is what she feels:

She’s alone, and she wasn’t before.

She doesn’t like the Mayor.

She feels like she might be asleep, only she rubs her eyes and pinches her arm and she is still here, this is her life, this is her life.

(Right?)

 

*

 

Kathryn is already in her office when Regina gets in, and she hurries to her desk.

‘Mr. Spencer called,’ Kathryn calls through her open door. ‘He wants to know why you haven’t sent the contracts over yet.’

‘I haven’t sent them,’ Regina says, shrugging out of her coat, ‘because he only sent them to me yesterday. The man is a lunatic.’

‘I’m not gonna disagree with you.’ Kathryn steps out of her office. ‘You don’t look good.’

Regina shoots her a look, and Kathryn shrugs. ‘It’s true. Are you sick?’

‘No. Just tired.’

Kathryn raises an eyebrow, but lets it go.

Which is why they work so well together. Kathryn’s tactful and Regina... isn’t, and between them they handle the bulk of Storybrooke’s legal work. Not that there is much, but this is what Regina has wanted for as long as she can remember.

She steps into her office. There is a half-empty cup of coffee left over from the night before, where she had stayed till late trying to get through Albert Spencer’s monster of a real estate contract. She sinks into her leather chair and tries to concentrate.

 

*

 

‘You wanted to see me,’ Regina says.

The Mayor smiles, wide, overeager, and waves her to an empty chair.

‘Please.’

Regina sits, reluctantly. She feels disoriented, like she is seeing the room from the wrong side, and she blinks, hard.

‘I’m sorry to call you away.’

‘It’s not a problem.’ The words feel like treacle in her mouth. This room makes her feel heavy.

‘I saw you at the docks today.’ The Mayor is young, shockingly so. Regina cannot remember her exact age but it is around the mid twenties. She looks younger than that now, leaning forward, her eyes fixed on Regina’s.

‘You’re following me.’

‘I’m helping you,’ the Mayor corrects. ‘This is better.’

The room flickers, too fast for Regina to catch anything, but it solidifies and the decor switches from plush earth tones to a stark black and white.

‘ _No_ ,’ the Mayor mutters. She mumbles something under her breath and the office is back to how it’s always been.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ she says.

Regina nods absently, but her mind still sees black and white and black and white and she is sitting in the wrong chair, she should be opposite-

And realisation comes for her in a crushing blow, doubling her over in her chair.

_Her office. This was hers._

She remembers something else, and fights the urge to be sick.

‘My son,’ she rasps. ‘What have you done with him?’

The Mayor is across the desk and in front of Regina in seconds, and she rests a gentle hand on Regina’s shoulder. Regina shakes it off.

‘I don’t have your son,’ the Mayor says.

‘My son. You _bitch_ , where is-’

‘Shhh.’ A hand touches her cheek, and Regina finds she can’t move. Helpless tears fall from her eyes as the Mayor leans forward. ‘You’re stronger than I thought,’ she says quietly, as Regina tries her hardest to break loose. ‘Look at me,’ she whispers, and Regina can’t help it. She stares into green eyes – emerald green, the brightest she’s ever seen, and the Mayor whispers something over and over, and she can’t keep her eyes open and her thoughts slip away like running water.

When she opens her eyes, a quick look outside tells her that it is late afternoon. She straightens up immediately.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says. ‘I must have dozed off... my apologies.’

The Mayor smiles understandingly.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

Regina wants to leave. She wants to get back to her office and her friend and her dog. She stands up and

_Mama always wanted me to rule -_

\- Is the scrap of thought that comes and goes, and Regina scoffs inwardly. She’s a lawyer, not a Mayor. She’s...

Her head hurts.

She stumbles, and catches herself before she falls.

‘Have a good evening,’ the Mayor says. Her smile stretches too wide. Regina shivers, and leaves.

 

*

 

Pongo is waiting at the door for her when she gets home, and he whines happily as she rubs his ears.

‘Hey, boy,’ she says automatically, and he follows her into the kitchen.

It occurs to her for the first time in a while that she doesn’t like the name Pongo. It doesn’t suit her. Or him. She can’t remember what she was thinking when she chose it.

Pongo huffs gently, and nudges her with his nose. She starts, and he nudges her again, pushing her closer to the cupboard where she keeps his food. She laughs, and feeds the dog.

 

*

 

And life goes on, and she and Kathryn handle the legal work that trickles in, and sometimes she sits at Granny’s and has hot chocolate and stares at the empty booth opposite and it all feels wrong, like a too –tight piece of clothing that she can’t escape, but there isn’t anything to escape.

And one day she bolts awake because her bones are buzzing under her skin, and she is in her shoes and coat before the sun has even begun to rise, and she fights the urge to run to the dock but she gets there panting, with her coat hanging open and she doesn’t bother to button it because there is a ship that she has never seen before.

It is bigger and more old-fashioned than any ship in the area. She can see tattered looking cloth sails flapping in the light breeze, and there is a worn-looking statue of a three-headed woman carved into the front. The ship rocks and creaks, and she stands frozen as people begin to emerge onto the deck.

She takes a few tentative steps forward as they lower the gangplank, and she carefully ignores the part of her brain that is screaming at her to run, and go find help, or at least crawl back into bed and pretend this isn’t happening.

She stops a few feet away from the first person to step onto the dock, a heavily pregnant woman with long, messy black hair.

‘Regina,’ the woman says. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’ Her breathy voice and glistening eyes carry no hint of insincerity, but Regina takes a step backward, because this woman does not feel like a stranger but she is, and Regina does not know how to reconcile the sudden rush of feelings at the sight of the woman who is clearly expecting a bigger reaction than what she is getting.

‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing here,’ she starts, ‘but this is a public dock. You’re going to need to move the ship.’

More people are stepping off the boat now: a handsome blond man who stands beside the pregnant woman protectively, a tall, leggy brunette who Pongo instantly strains to get near, several short, bearded men who look at her with suspicion and more, until Regina is sure that she is either about to faint or lash out and fight her way out of the group that is quickly forming around her.

She chooses the latter, and she is slightly gratified to see the whole group take a collective, alarmed step away from her as she strides forward.

‘Nice to see you too, Queenie,’ one of the short men mutters, and she scowls.

‘I don’t know what you people think you’re doing here, but you should leave,’ she says, snapping her words off the end like she does sometimes in court, and some of them wince, but they stay, and so does she, and the pregnant haired woman smiles, and shit, her head hurts.

The woman that Pongo is still straining towards smiles sympathetically, and a woman in a plain blue dress steps forward nervously.

‘Regina,’ she says. ‘Can you hold still, for just a second?’ And nothing good has ever followed a statement like that, but there is something about the woman’s kind eyes that makes her stand her ground. The woman reaches into the satchel tied around her waist, and pulls out what looks like wand. She gives it an anxious shake, before she closes her eyes and swirls it over Regina’s head. A shower of pink glitter shoots out of the end, and lands on her face, making her skin tingle.

‘It’s not working,’ the long-haired haired woman says anxiously.

‘Patience, please, Queen Snow,’ the woman with the wand says calmly, but Regina can see the lines of strain on her face. She is just about to move away, to get far away from this people and the whole insane situation when the shower of glitter flares white.

It hits her like a spray of cool water, and it all comes screaming back..

Regina is aware that her knees buckle and arms wrap around her to break her fall, but the rest of her is consumed by the magic sparking along her skin, now blazing hot, unlocking two lives worth of memories.

She can feel herself tipping backwards, but she can only find it in herself to care about the memories rushing back, filling gaps she hadn’t realised were empty, and she sobs once, a dry, sharp sound, before everything goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

When she wakes she is in a dimly lit room, and there is a heavy weight over her legs. She shifts, and the weight shifts with her, snuffling at her blanket. A familiar wet nose pushes at her hand and she sits bolt upright. Her bed rocks underneath her, and she clutches onto her blankets.

Regina the Mayor and Regina the Evil Queen and Regina the Lawyer shove for space in her head, and she can’t breathe, and oh god, Henry.

‘Regina?’

She startles at the unexpected voice, and Pongo growls.

‘It’s just me.’ Snow White appears from a corner of the room and lights the candle on the table next to the bed.

‘You’ve been asleep for almost the whole day,’ Snow says. She moves forward as if to touch the bed, and her hand pauses halfway there before retreating. ‘Astrid said to let you rest. So we put you in one of the crew quarters.’

Snow pulls a chair to the bed.

‘The town looks the same as always,’ she says, brightly. Her voice rings loudly in the small room. ‘I know it hasn’t been so long, but it all looks the same. I thought-’

Regina had forgotten Snow White’s nervous prattle, and she swings her feet off the bed and stands to escape it. Her legs shake under her, but hold, and she manoeuvres away from Snow’s helping hand.

‘Where are-’

‘Hook and David have gone to get them,’ Snow interrupts. ‘We would have gone earlier, but we had to make sure it was safe. We had to make sure-’

‘That I would be strong enough to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West for you.’

Snow nods, simultaneously shamefaced and defiant, and Regina finds she cannot fault her. She won’t have Emma and Henry back if she can’t protect them. She eyes Snow’s stomach. She looks at least seven months pregnant.

‘Did Emma know?’ Snow is watching Regina watch her with careful eyes, and she covers her stomach with one hand as she looks away.

‘We were going to tell her,’ she says. ‘But we never got around to it.’ Regina thinks of Emma, who was only just starting to come to terms with her new family and new life, coming back to find herself nearly replaced, and she stands and moves away, wanting to be out in the fresh air, away from this woman.

‘Pongo, come,’ she says, and he leaps up and bounds to the door expectantly. Not hers, not for much longer, but she needs comfort and quiet, and the Witch matched them well, she’ll give her that. ‘I’m going up to the deck,’ she says. Hook shouldn’t take too long to get there and back, not with his fairy enhanced boat, and she badly needs time to think.

‘She’s going to know we’re here soon,’ Regina says.

‘Blue said she could cloak us,’ Snow says. Regina wouldn’t trust the Blue Fairy to guard an empty paper bag, but she nods stiffly, anyway.

‘Just tell me when they get here.’

 

*

 

They board Hook’s ship as soon as it docks, Regina leading, and Snow close behind. And then she sees them, standing against the railing, Henry pushed slightly behind Emma as they stare at the people coming up the ramp.

She locks eyes with Henry, and he smiles his best smile, the cheek splitting one that she loves. He pulls away from Emma, and she meets him on the deck. She holds him tight, so tight that he wriggles away slightly.

‘Mom,’ he mumbles, and her heart cracks down the centre.

And Emma... Emma just watches as they hug. She doesn’t rush forward to pull Henry away from the woman who’s crying into his hair but she doesn’t come forward, either. She just watches carefully and warily, with a closed off expression that looks strange on her face.

Henry pulls away, and Regina keeps an arm around his shoulders as Emma moves closer.

‘Kid,’ Emma says. ‘Come here.’

Henry clings tight to Regina.

‘Henry! Emma!’ Snow brushes past her and pulls Henry into a hug before turning to Emma. ‘Honey, I missed you so much.’

Emma gives a small nod of acknowledgement, but she doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring like she’s bumped into old acquaintances whose names she can’t quite remember.

Snow takes a step forward, arms open, and Emma takes a reflexive step back. Snow’s eyes dim with disappointment, but she plasters on a smile and stays where she is. David stays next to Regina, and waves at Emma. It’s a casual wave, and he seems to be happy to stay where he is, but Regina can see the pain in the lines on his face. She hugs Henry closer.

‘Hi,’ he says, and Emma shoots him a small smile.

‘I’m so sorry, honey,’ Snow says. ‘It was the Witch. We were all going to leave together and she ambushed us. We’re never going to be apart again.’ Emma’s eyes widen slightly at Snow’s declaration, and she backs into the railing, wearing the trapped look she had for most of her first year in Storybrooke. Everything about this dynamic reminds her of a newly-arrived Emma, skittish and unsure, except this time everything in her wants Emma to remember. She wants to take a moment, wants to think about the fact that the universe will seemingly never stop twisting their lives around for its own amusement, but there’s no time.

So she moves towards Emma, Henry’s arms still around her waist.

‘How much do you remember?’ she says softly. She’s not sure what effect sending them over the town line would have had, with the glamour that the Witch had set over the town. Henry seems to remember everything, but Emma is starting to look like she’s seriously regretting the decision to come.

‘Nothing, at first,’ Emma says. ‘Then... Hook showed up and waved a wand at us and... this is crazy,’ Emma says, shaking her head. ‘None of this makes sense. She,’ she points at Snow, ‘can’t be my mother. Magic isn’t real.’ Henry moves to interrupt, but Regina squeezes his shoulder. ‘This isn’t the real world, this doesn’t make sense.’

‘Except it does,’ Regina says.

‘Yeah,’ Emma says. She looks exhausted, suddenly. ‘I just feel...’ and she pauses, embarrassed, because there isn’t a memory spell strong enough to make Emma the kind of person who spills her heart out to complete stranger, but she glances at Henry and looks up, her face open in a way Regina has rarely seen. ‘I just feel like I’m supposed to be here, you know?’

‘Yes,’ Regina says. ‘I do.’

Henry looks between them, and stretches a hand out towards Emma, who steps forward and takes it immediately.

‘Mom,’ he says, not to her, and her breath catches in her throat. ‘You trust me?’

The lines in Emma’s face deepen momentarily, but she nods.

‘You’re a Princess, okay? And a knight, too. And a hero,’ he adds, the adoration on his face so plain that she wants to look away. Emma takes a deep breath.

‘Okay, kid,’ she says. ‘But this is a lot for me to handle.’ She looks at Regina for what feels like the first time in years. ‘I need some space. I’m gonna go.’

Snow makes a noise that sounds a lot like a squeak, and Regina tightens her grip on Henry.

‘Just to the Captain’s Quarters,’ Emma says tiredly. ‘I just need some space, okay? Kid, let’s go.’

Henry looks at her for confirmation, and it takes her less than a second to give a short nod. She has learned from long experience the importance of giving a little, especially if she wants them to come back.

‘I’ll be right up here if you need me,’ she says. He smiles, and presses a light kiss to her cheek.

‘I really missed you,’ he says, before he runs after Emma.

Regina watches them disappear below deck, and takes a moment to compose herself before turning to Snow White.

‘So, do you have a plan?’

 

*

 

_‘Well,’ Emma breathes next to her, as Regina catches her breath. ‘That was...’_

_She feels loose-limbed, relaxed and lazy, and she can’t even muster the energy to intimidate properly._

_‘That was what? I suggest you choose your words wisely.’_

_Emma turns to face her, her features shadowed in the moonlight, and begins to laugh. Regina would take offense, but it is such a happy sound, uninhibited and free in a way Regina hasn’t felt in such a long time that she simply stares as Emma tries to control herself._

_When Emma is calm, she rolls and pins Regina beneath her. Her long curls brush against her shoulder and she shivers as Emma presses a kiss to her neck._

_‘I was just thinking, my life is completely insane,’ she says, her voice muffled against Regina’s neck. ‘Completely insane.’_

_‘Join the club,’ she grumbles, and she arches as Emma nips at her neck._

_She should know better than this. She should ask Emma to leave. She should do a lot of things. But it’s hard to remember exactly what those things are when Emma is kissing her the way she is._

 

*

 

‘She’ll come around,’ Ruby says.

Regina doesn’t startle, only takes another sip from the glass of rum that Hook had brought up to her. The liquid stings burns, and she takes a breath before taking another sip. Her head swims, and she leans against the solid wood of the deck.

‘You don’t know that,’ she says. She’s had too much experience in things not going her way, and she leans the cool glass against her forehead. Ruby sighs.

‘She loved... loves you,’ she says. Regina looks up, and Ruby snorts.

‘Please,’ she says. ‘Everyone knew. Emma is not subtle.’ Ruby grins, and Regina finds herself smiling back, despite herself.

‘She isn’t,’ Regina agrees. And maybe it’s the sight of her undone this way, eyes drooping and glass swaying drunkenly in her hand, but Ruby moves close enough to rest a hand on Regina’s shoulder.

‘You need to sleep,’ she says kindly. ‘Today’s a big day.’

‘We have a witch to destroy,’ Regina says, tiredly.

‘We need to get our town back,’ Ruby agrees. ‘Between you and me, the Enchanted Forest isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’

And she pulls Regina to her feet, and guides her upstairs, where the others are waiting.

 

*

 

‘You had four months,’ Regina says. ‘Four months to gather your forces and you didn’t actually manage to formulate a plan.’

‘You didn’t either, Regina,’ David mutters.

‘I was under the thrall of an all powerful sorceress,’ she hisses quietly, as the Blue Fairy approaches. ‘You were gallivanting around the Enchanted Forest, and, I assume, communing with the local wildlife.’

‘We got Emma and Henry back, didn’t we?’ he says, and she doesn’t have a response for that.

The group that gathers is a ragtag group of Snow White and her closest friends, and the lucky few people who were resistant to the Witch’s glamour. It looks like Snow managed to convince some of the people she had left behind to come and fight.

It’s a small group, but determined, and most importantly, heavily armed, and they might actually be able to cause enough havoc to make the Witch leave, she hopes.

‘The Witch will know we’re here,’ David says, once everyone has settled, ‘so there’s no point in trying to be subtle.’

‘He’s right,’ Snow says. ‘The Blue Fairy says that the enchantment on the ship won’t last much longer.’

‘So, you’re just gonna attack the town.’

Emma’s voice cuts through the crowd, and they automatically make way for her to walk to the front, and she does, with barely a glance forward. Henry trails behind her, sending small waves at the townspeople.

‘Well. Yes,’ Regina says. Snow White looks exasperated at the lack of tact, but Emma doesn’t look like she is in the mood for soft words and segues. ‘It’s the easiest way.’

‘We’ll be careful, Emma,’ Snow says. ‘We just want to free the people. We don’t want to hurt anyone.’

‘Except the Witch,’ Henry pipes up.

‘Except her,’ Regina says.

‘But not if we don’t have to,’ David promises. ‘We’re the good guys.’

Regina does her best not to roll her eyes at their display. She has fought against them before. She knows what Snow and David look like with their armour and weapons stained red.

‘Emma,’ she says, stepping closer, and Emma looks at her warily. ‘I’m going to need your help.’

‘How?’ Emma asks. ‘I can’t do any of... what you’re planning.’

‘You have magic,’ she says gently, and Emma sighs. ‘You do,’ she says. ‘I can feel it.’ She can feel it swirling under Emma’s skin, eager to be used but locked away by Hook’s incompetent undoing of the memory spell she had accidentally set on them.

‘Okay, fine,’ Emma says. ‘I have magic. What are you going to do?’

‘Lift the glamour on the town,’ Regina says. ‘I can’t do it alone. I could barely throw it off myself for more than a minute. But I think we can do it together.’ Emma casts a nervous look around; her parents are doing their best to pretend that they aren’t listening, and everyone else is fidgeting impatiently.

‘Give me your hand,’ she says, and Emma does, reluctantly. She concentrates, and her own magic tugs at Emma’s, calling it out. Emma winces and tries to pull away, but Regina holds tight.

‘Wait,’ she says, and she pushes harder. Emma tries to pull away one more time before she stiffens and gasps, eyes wide open.

‘I can feel it,’ she says, face flushed red. ‘I can feel - oh fuck.’

‘Imagine a wind,’ Regina says, as calmly as she can. ‘Imagine a gale blowing through the town.’

Emma nods, and grasps Regina’s hand tighter, and soon everyone around them is ducking for cover as a strong wind rushes through the town, fuelled by their magic and focused by Regina. She can feel the glamour fight, feel it twist and hide, but she is angrier than she has ever been and Emma can’t seem to control the tide of magic rushing through her.

It pushes back, one more time, before it dissipates, and all of a sudden the air seems brighter, the sky bluer. She slumps against Emma, but Emma grips her shoulder with her free hand.

‘I remember,’ Emma says urgently, and she looks at her like she always did, warmth and affection and Regina smiles reflexively. Suddenly Emma’s eyes darken.

‘You sent us away,’ she says, and there is a flash of light before Regina can answer.

‘How cosy.’

The Witch stands at the back of the crowd in resplendent green. Even from this distance Regina can see the stony anger in her eyes; the distant disgust as the gathered crowd pulls back for a second before mustering itself into something resembling an attack formation.

‘I thought I had got rid of you,’ she continues. She smiles, a sharp, wicked smile that trails a cold finger down Regina’s spine. ‘Troublemakers. Infesting my town.’

‘This is not your town,’ Snow White says. ‘These are not your people.’

‘Maybe not right now,’ the Witch says smoothly. The crowd begins to mutter and inch forward, closing ranks, and Regina notices Emma, and Henry especially, being dragged along in the pull.

‘Enough,’ she says. They don’t listen, and push forward, and Henry lets out a helpless squeak as he is dragged away from them. Regina reaches out with her magic and pulls them both away, behind her, where they will be safe. She will not allow this to degenerate into a brawl with her son so close.

She clears a path and strides through the crowd easily. The Witch meets her eyes, and smiles, and Regina wonders at the arrogance of a woman who will meet an angry mob and a powerful sorceress with no backup of her own.

‘You,’ Regina says, rage thickening her voice. ‘You - you stole my town from me.’

Because Storybrooke is hers in a way that it will never belong to anyone else. Every street, every building is formed of her magic and sacrifice. Her father’s blood made this town, and sustains this town.

The Witch shrugs, oblivious to her anger. ‘You should have guarded it more carefully,’ she says. ‘Really, I expected better from you.’

The Witch’s words are casual, but her posture is not, and Regina can feel the magic thickening around her, like air before a thunderstorm. There is a reason this woman was able to catch them unawares, she reminds herself. This is no time to lose her temper.

‘You lose, Elena,’ she says, and the Witch’s face hardens at the use of her name. ‘You cannot erase me so easily. And you will not catch me unguarded again.’

Someone behind her, most likely overexcited and scared, throws a spear, which the Witch easily snatches out of the air.

‘Never,’ she hisses. Her almost jovial mood is gone, and her magic gathers around her in a dark cloud. ‘I will have this town. If I cannot have Oz, I will have Storybrooke, and start again.’

The Witch snaps her fingers, and the air shimmers as her rear guard appears.

‘You have to be fucking kidding me,’ a faint voice mutters from somewhere behind her, and Regina would smile and agree, except flying monkeys are a lot less comical and much more dangerous when they are armed with teeth that look sharp and strong enough to tear through metal.

The Witch smiles, and the monkeys follow some unseen signal, and attack.

Later, Regina will not be able to remember much about the fight.

She remembers that Snow White’s ragtag group of fighters were better than she expected. At least, no one panicked, or broke rank.

She remembers fighting to keep her place next to where Emma and Henry were standing, and Emma standing over Henry with a spear. She never did ask where Emma got it from.

She remembers using her magic. She remembers it pulling at her, first burning hot as she turned the monkeys into ash, then a tingling fire as she used her magic to cut them out of the air.

And it’s over, and the Witch is gone, and her mouth tastes like salt and copper.

‘Mom,’ Henry says quietly. She turns, because his voice sounds wrong, and he shrinks back. Not much, maybe not noticeable to a person who does not know him as well as she does, but she sees it, and freezes.

‘Mom, you’re...’ he gestures helplessly, and she looks down to see her white blouse and slacks are covered in red. She touches her fingers to her face, and they come away sticky and wet.

She is not the only one covered in  blood, but Henry stares, and the dwarf next to him - Sleepy, maybe - lets out a small gasp and attention shifts to her and she is the Evil Queen again, fireball in her hand and heart’s blood dripping from her fingers.

And then there is Emma, who looks at her with piercing recognition.

She swallows hard, and waves her hand, and her clothes and skin are clean in an instant.

‘What are you staring at,’ she snaps. The people look away, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.


	3. Chapter 3

There is too much to do to brood.

There is Emma, who is remembering things in leaps and bounds. She remembers magic, and her parents, and the curse. She remembers that she didn’t always have Henry, and Regina watches her cry in her mother’s arms, and doesn’t approach because Emma is pretending she doesn’t exist. She watches Emma send sidelong glances at Snow White’s stomach, and she turns away.

There is helping the wounded, and moving everyone to the town hall for safety, and securing the perimeter. They do not trust her enough to let her help, but she secretly casts a protection spell on Emma and Henry. She’s not going to trust their welfare to a charlatan like the Blue Fairy.

And there is the town meeting, which is almost a complete waste of time. Half the town wants to use the beans to return to The Enchanted Forest, and half want to stay in Storybrooke. The only thing that everyone can agree on is that the Witch must be stopped, but no one can agree how, or who should fight.

By the time the meeting breaks up, she cannot stand to be in the room anymore. She checks to make sure Henry is with Emma, and she slips out of the room.

 

*

 

‘You remember, everything, then?’ Regina says. The meeting ended almost two hours ago, and she’s been sitting in her old office ever since. She doesn’t need to turn to see Emma shrug.

‘I guess you’ve lost your touch with memory spells,’ Emma says, and Regina isn’t nearly tired enough to miss the anger layered in her voice.

‘That wasn’t my intention,’ Regina says. ‘Her glamour affected the town line. Made it stronger. The amnesia was a side effect.’ Regina says. ‘All I could do was try to make you happy, in the few seconds I had.’

‘So you knew we’d forget everything, and you still did it.’ Emma crosses her arms.

‘She would have killed you,’ Regina says, too exhausted to put much fight into her voice. ‘In front of me. And Henry-’ her voice catches. ‘I wanted you away from here,’ she admits, knowing it is the worst thing she can say to someone like Emma.

‘So you sent us away,’ Emma says. She sounds young, and lost, and abandoned.

‘To save your lives,’ Regina says. See how I’ve grown, she wants to say. I can let go if I have to. Except it probably doesn’t count if she hurts them anyway.

‘We could have-’ and Emma is in front of her suddenly, grabbing the arms of the chair and holding it still, bending forward so Regina has no choice but to look up at her. ‘At least tell me you’re sorry.’

She can’t help herself; she leans closer, close enough that Emma’s hair brushes at her face and her old-leather smell washes over her. She wants to curl up in her, twine her fingers in her hair and pull her close. But she doesn’t. Instead the places her hand on Emma’s cheek.

‘I am sorry for so many things,’ she says. ‘But not that.’

Emma nods, and Regina cannot read her expression in the half light.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Emma says, and turns to go.

‘Emma.’ Emma stops at the door, and waits expectantly. ‘I just want to know. Were you happy? I didn’t have time to...’ She stops. Composes herself. ‘Did I make you happy?’

‘You did,’ Emma says, and leaves, and Regina sits in the dark and sips at her cider and wonder what Emma would have said if she had said when you were with me.

 

*

 

She walks out of the office and almost trips over Henry, who is sitting on the floor outside her office.

‘Henry!’ she says, and he scrambles up and grins.

‘I was looking for you,’ he says, and launches himself into her arms. She is surprised that she can barely catch him; he is growing. He’s going to be tall, she can tell.

‘Gramps and Grams are busy with Mom,’ he says, before she can ask. ‘Grumpy was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, but...’ he shrugs.

‘That’s not safe,’ she scolds, but she can’t stop a small smile from tugging at her mouth. ‘I’m so happy to see you, Henry,’ she adds.

‘Me too, Mom,’ he says seriously.

‘Tell me about your life.’

He does.

She gave him a good one. There was a good school, and friends, and lots of trips to the comic book store, and a puppy (maybe, if he got straight As).

‘It sounds perfect,’ she says, proud of her steady her voice is.

‘It was great,’ he says. ‘But it wasn’t real. Real is better.’

‘Why?’ she asks, despite herself.

He shrugs. ‘It just is.’

 

*

 

‘Mom,’ he says, when they are almost back in the town hall. ‘I wasn’t scared of you before, after the monkeys.’

‘I wouldn’t blame you if you were,’ she says. He shakes his head.

‘You just looked scary, for a second. But I wasn’t scared of you’. He frowns. ‘That doesn’t make any sense.’

‘No, it does’, she says, because Cora was her mother, and she understands fear.

 

*

 

More townspeople have been trickling in ever since she and Emma broke the glamour, and it isn’t long before they are at capacity.

‘We have to move them,’ Snow says. ‘It’s not safe.’

Over by the doors, the three little pigs are arguing over sleeping space with a pair of seasoned looking warriors from the White court, and two dwarves are sharpening their axes and shooting her former guard dark looks.

‘People are too scared to go home,’ Charming says. ‘They don’t know what to do.’

‘Yes, thank you, Charming,’ Regina says waspishly. His habit for stating the obvious grates more than usual. He glares, and Emma steps in between them.

‘Don’t,’ she says. Her voice sounds worn through. Regina wants to kiss her. ‘Can you just save it, for after? Assuming we make it through this mess.’

‘Fine,’ she mutters ungracefully, and she stalks away, both loving and hating the way the crowd peels away from her as she walks.

‘Regina?’

She whips around to see Kathryn standing a few feet away. She stops, and takes a few feet forward. Kathryn doesn’t back away, and soon she is standing in front of her.

‘I...’ words fails her, and Kathryn doesn’t help, waiting expectantly. ‘I’m glad you’re alright,’ Regina settles for, because she doesn’t know how to ask are we still friends in a way that doesn’t come off as slightly pathetic.

Kathryn smiles slowly, genuinely, and Regina lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

‘The town looks deserted,’ Kathryn says. ‘It’s never been this bad before. Do we have a plan?’

‘Not really,’ Regina admits. ‘We can’t get anyone to agree on what to do. Some people just want to cut and run. Snow wants to fight.’

‘And Emma?’ Kathryn asks. ‘What does she want?’

Her face tightens before she can stop it. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘She’s not speaking to me.’

It’s more than she had wanted to say, but the words had bubbled up before she could stop them. And Kathryn is the only friend she’s had for a long time.

 

*

 

‘I never asked you,’ Emma says quietly behind her. Regina jumps. ‘What you wanted.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Snow and David want to go back. Snow’s going to take some people with her when she leaves.’

Regina quirks an eyebrow. ‘Snow is leaving?’

‘David’s making her.’ Emma smiles, a fond pull of the mouth that Regina has missed more than she realised. ‘He doesn’t think it’s safe for the baby.’

‘He’s probably right,’ Regina admits. ‘Your mother is a formidable fighter, but she’ll be a liability. It’s safer for all of us, this way.’

‘Mr. Gold wants to leave too,’ Emma says. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.’

‘We’ll find out soon, I suppose.’ She sighs. ‘I thought you weren’t speaking to me.’

‘I’m not,’ Emma retorts. ‘I’m not here for you. The kid wants to know. I said I’d ask you. So, are you going to stay?’

‘What does he want?’

‘I asked you first,’ Emma says, with that glimmer of childishness that shows up every so often.

‘I want to stay,’ she admits. ‘The Enchanted Forest... I have very few good memories there. But you know that.’ And Emma flushes with the memory of the nights they had spent together, wrapped up tight and whispering secrets into the dark.

‘But if Henry goes,’ she says, ‘I will go too.’ We’ve been separated for too long.’ Emma scowls.

‘By your choice,’ Emma says. A flare of anger spikes through her.

‘Don’t play the martyr,’ she hisses, aware of the people casting curious glances at them. ‘I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice.’

‘That sounds pretty much like Snow, this time last year,’ Emma says coldly, and Regina feels violently ill, all of a sudden.

‘Your parents made sure that you paid the price,’ she says dully. She’s lost all energy for this fight. ‘They sent you out, all alone. I sent you away, yes, but I gave you all the family I had. I gave you everything I had.’ Emma looks taken aback by her sudden weariness, but fighting with Emma doesn’t hold the same appeal it used to.

‘You could have found another way,’ Emma says, with the inflection of an often repeated phrase. ‘There’s always a way.’

‘Don’t give me that bullshit,’ she says. ‘Don’t throw your mother’s platitudes at me. That’s not who we are.’

‘You don’t know who I am,’ Emma says. She is starting to get angry again, Regina can see.

‘I know exactly who you are,’ Regina throws back. ‘And you know me. You would have done the same thing.’ And she turns on her heel and walks away. Emma doesn’t follow, which she is simultaneously relieved and disappointed by, and she finds a quiet place to do her fortifications.

 

*

 

‘I just don’t understand why she picked us,’ Snow says. Regina can see she is tired, back bent under the weight of her pregnancy and the responsibility of trying to keep all these people safe. Truth be told, Regina doesn’t even want to be here. She wants to take Henry, and go. But that’s not an option, for more reasons than she can care to count, so she does her best to tolerate Snow White.

‘You can blame Rumpelstiltskin,’ she says. ‘He made this town a perfect refuge for himself. And his son, eventually. It’s an almost perfect location, especially now that magic has returned.’ Her lip curls at the mention of Neal, who left town soon after Greg and Tamara had vanished from town, and only kept in contact with Henry via phone.

('I can’t be here,' he had said, his face crumpled in despair. 'I can’t. I hate him, so much. I love Henry, but I can’t live in the same town as my father, can you understand?')

And she had, but her son hadn’t, and she couldn’t ever forgive him for that, among other things.

‘Why can’t we just leave?’ Midas asks. ‘She can have Storybrooke, as far as I’m concerned.’ There is a murmur of agreement, around the table.

‘We can’t afford show any weakness. If we do, if she feels she can defeat us, she will find a way to follow us to the Enchanted Forest and continue her attack there,’ the Blue Fairy says. ‘The Witch has been searching for a home for many years now,’ she adds. ‘The Ozzians banished her, Maleficent despises her and no one has tried to take over Wonderland since-’ she glances at Regina, and Snow looks down, her face a picture of innocent despair. Regina grits her teeth.

‘We’re lucky,’ the Blue Fairy says, ‘not to have been disturbed for so long. We were forever fighting off potential invaders when we lived in the Enchanted Forest.’ She preens slightly, and a small shower of glitter falls from her wings.

‘Yes, well,’ Regina says, dusting off her shirt. ‘You and your little friends were woefully incapable of any kind of defence this time-’

‘As were you,’ the Blue Fairy shoots back. ‘The Witch has never posed any kind of serious threat before. In fact,’ she says, and her eyes darken, just a shade. ‘How are we supposed to know that you two aren’t working together? How do we know that you aren’t just here to learn our secrets?’

‘I don’t need to know your secrets to defeat you, you puffed up moron. I am here because the Witch will destroy everything I worked to build. I am here because she threatened my son.’ She becomes aware that she is standing, and the Fairy has pulled her wand out, but she doesn’t care. ‘So watch your tone, Reul Ghorm,’ and the Fairy flinches at the use of her full name. ‘You’re not nearly as important as you think you are.’

The room shivers with tension, Regina at one end of the large boardroom table where she used to chair council meetings and the Fairy hovering above the centre, wand aimed squarely at the space between Regina’s eyes, when Emma breaks the silence.

‘So you’re saying that all this is about real estate? That seems a little pathetic.’ It is a very Emma sort of thing to say, and both Regina and the Fairy tear their eyes away to look at Emma who is seated to the right of Snow White, chair tipped back dangerously on two legs. The Fairy frowns.

‘It’s a little more complicated than that,’ she explains, ‘The laws that govern property in most other worlds are very different from this one...’ the tension in the room slowly decreases as she drones on and Regina throws Emma a glance that says _I know what you’re doing_ , because Emma is incredibly astute at reading and defusing situations. Emma shoots one back that says _you’re welcome, and also please don’t pick fights when we are having an emergency war council_ , but she may be reading a little too much into that last one.

 

*

 

Rumpelstiltskin interrupts about halfway through by materialising in one of the shadowy corners of the room. A few people gasp, but Regina rolls her eyes. He is dressed like he used to in the Enchanted Forest, all red suits lined with velvet, and with that unearthly shimmer to his skin.

‘I have a proposition to make,’ he says, and strides to the window.

‘Tell us,’ David says, when Rumpel has made it clear that he won’t continue without an invitation.

‘Well, I have been conducting an informal poll, of sorts, and most of the townspeople are not happy at all.’ He picks idly at the windowsill. ‘All of this war and bloodshed and all most of them want to do is grow some potatoes on a nice piece of land. So I have a deal to make.’

‘No,’ David says, immediately.

‘I also find myself growing tired of this land,’ Rumpelstiltskin continues, as if David had never spoken. ‘So I am offering free navigation and transportation services to all who want to leave. All I ask for in return is three magic beans for my personal use.’

‘We don’t need you,’ Snow White says. ‘We made it back here on our own.’

‘Thanks to a guidance spell provided by me,’ he reminds her. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the perils of portal-jumping, even with an experienced guide. Give me the beans, and I can guarantee that all who wish to return home will do so safely.’ He grins, a reptilian smile that shows too many teeth. He leans forward, sensing an advantage.

‘Send the vulnerable away, the liabilities,’ Rumpel says. ‘Keep only your strongest fighters, or at the very least, the ones who actually want to be here. Don’t make it any easier for Elena than you have to.’

The faces on the room range from steely distrust to thoughtfulness to open fear. Regina herself hates the idea of trusting Rumpelstiltskin with anything more important than a used pen, but he makes sense, as always. Fights between magic users are dangerous at the best of times, and there are some people she doesn’t want anywhere near here when things eventually come to a head.

‘If we agree to this,’ Emma says, unexpectedly. ‘How can we trust that you will keep your word, and keep people safe? What will you swear on?’

Rumpelstiltskin looks at her in surprise, because no one except Snow White and David had known about the magic lessons Regina had been giving Emma, before.

('You can bind magic users by their word, most of the time,' Regina had said, and Emma had hummed, half listening, half delirious with the pulse of magic flowing between them. 'An ancient failsafe, to- Emma, are you listening?'

'Yes,' Emma had said, slowly, 'yes, I am,' and she leaned forward and kissed the bare skin of Regina’s shoulder, and -)

‘- I swear by my son,’ he says. ‘I swear by his life, I will grant safe passage to all who want it, in exchange for three magic beans.’

Emma stares at him, and he looks back, and Regina sees, not for the first time, a flash of regality in her bearing, and there is a sharp ache of longing as Emma glances around the table before nodding once.

‘Anyone have a problem with this?’ Emma says. A few people shift uneasily, but no one says anything. ‘Okay.’ She turns back to Rumpel. ‘Deal. When do you want to leave?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he says. ‘At dawn.’

‘We should make an announcement,’ Snow says. ‘Dr. Hopper, can you handle it?’

‘Of course,’ he says, and stands up. ‘I’ll handle it now,’ he says, and almost flies from the room, his walk so reminiscent of his cricket form that Regina has to suppress a laugh, despite the circumstances.


	4. Chapter 4

She wakes up to screaming.

She is curled around Henry’s sleeping form, and Emma sleeps a few feet away, a compromise borne of both their needs to stay close to him and Emma’s inability to look at Regina for more than a few seconds at a time.

‘Mom?’ Henry wakes a few seconds later, him hands grabbing at her shirt and pulling her close. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ she whispers. ‘Stay down.’ She presses a kiss to his head and stands up. Emma is already awake, her father’s sword in her hand.

The hall is flashing in green and blue, and there is a scream and the faint smell of burning flesh every time one of the lights touches a person.

‘Scare tactics,’ Regina says disdainfully, and Emma gives her a shocked look, like she is only remembering Regina’s history for the first time now. She sighs. ‘Give me your hand.’

And Emma does. Hesitantly, like she has been asked to place her hand in the mouth of a lion, but soon there is a warm palm resting in hers, strong fingers around hers and the magic is right there, waiting to be free, and soon the hall is covered in a dome of sparkling light that alternates between blue and her own purple.

Regina wonders if Emma knows what it means for them, that their magic acts like this when they’re together, but she hadn’t brought it up before and she won’t now. Instead she takes a brief moment to enjoy their magic interacting, Emma’s young magic leaping up around them like springwater, and her own older, more practiced magic leaving in a smooth arc to keep the dome intact.

The attacks falter, and she slumps, exhausted. The hall darkens again, and a thin arm closes in an iron vice around her middle.

‘Very good,’ the Witch purrs in her ear. ‘That was very sweet.’ Her grip is unnaturally strong, digging into the skin under Regina’s ribcage and making it almost impossible to breathe in. ‘I’m not going to kill you,’ the Witch adds. ‘That would ruin everything. But thank you for the demonstration.’

And then she is gone, and Regina gasps for air as Emma tugs at her hand.

‘I couldn’t move,’ Emma says. What the hell happened? What did she say to you?’ She holds Regina around her upper arm, her grip concerned rather than bruising.

‘What happened, is that the fairies screwed up more than usual. The wards they put up are useless,’ she spits, massaging her stomach where the Witch had gripped her. The anger is a good cover for the fear she feels, but it’s just that, a cover, and the fear prickles at her skin.

 

*

 

‘Mom, come on, please,’ Henry begs. They are almost at the dock, and he is still dragging his feet, refusing the plan that she and Emma had decided on after the Witch had attacked.

‘It’s not safe for you here,’ she says, for what feels like the hundredth time that morning. The sun has barely risen in the sky and already she is so, so tired. ‘I can’t fight her and look after you at the same time.’

‘You don’t have to look after me,’ he insists. ‘I can take care of myself.’ He wears the same scowl she has seen on his face his entire life, and she can’t help a small smile. His scowl deepens. ‘Mom.’

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart,’ she says. She takes his hand, and he lets her, despite his anger. ‘But please understand that we have to keep you safe. That’s the most important thing in the world to us.’

‘That’s right.’ Regina jumps. She hadn’t seen Emma coming up behind them. ‘And we’re gonna come get you when everything is all over.’

‘If she doesn’t kill you,’ Henry says. ‘I saw what she did to those people in the middle of the night. She’s dangerous.’

‘That’s why we have to stay and fight,’ Emma says. ‘It’ll be all over before you know it.’

They reach the four ships that Rumpelstiltskin had created especially for this voyage, and there is already a long line of people queuing to get on.

‘No it won’t,’ Henry says. He pulls away from them and runs ahead to where Snow and David are standing. Regina watches him go, her heart tugging.

‘He’ll get over it,’ Emma says. ‘He’s pissed now, but...’

‘It’s better than the alternative,’ Regina sighs.

‘He’d love this, usually,’ Emma says. ‘All that Prince and fantasy land stuff. It’s all he -’

‘I know,’ Regina snaps. ‘He’s my son.’

It’s an old battle, a well worn script that they had both given up on long before. But he hasn’t been hers for so long, and what’s the harm in reminding everyone?

‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ Emma says. She looks wounded, her brow furrowing in a childlike way that Regina, despite her bristling anger, wants to smooth away. Regina looks away.

‘Let’s just get him away, safe,’ Regina says.

Henry comes back towards them, still dragging his feet, but at least he’s not glaring like he was before. ‘Grandma says I can help run the ship,’ he says, sounding something other than glum for the first time in several hours. ‘She’s gonna be captain of ours, and she said I can help.’

‘That’s great,’ Regina says, mostly genuinely. ‘Really,’ she adds. ‘You’re going to have a great time.’

‘And I’m gonna come back, right?’ He says, his eyes darting between the two of them.

‘I’ll get you myself if I have to,’ she promises.

And too soon, the ships are leaving, and Snow has boarded hers already, and Henry is one of the last few left to board.

This had seemed like the only sensible option, when the hall still glowed warm from the Witch’s attack. Now he’s leaving, and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s making the biggest mistake of her life by sending him away.

Again.

She hugs him one more time, too tight, and watches as Emma sweeps him up in a hug that speaks of long practice and easy familiarity.

Finally, Henry jumps on board, and the boats cast off, the shimmer of the fairies’ magic the only sign of the enchantments that they had stayed up the rest of the night preparing. It should protect the dock and all the ships until Rumpelstiltskin takes them through the portal, but she watches tensely as Henry waves, Snow White standing behind him with a protective arm around his shoulders.

‘Well. Shit,’ Emma says.

‘That sounds about right,’ she agrees, and she is so, so tired.

 

*

 

Most of the town left with the ships, and walking through the streets is similar to walking through a ghost town. All that is left is some of her old guard, about a third of the White Kingdom’s, and a few scattered people from the smaller kingdoms. Not nearly enough, probably. The Witch’s intimidation tactics worked well.

‘Tell me why we didn’t leave again,’ Emma mutters.

‘Because you’ve eaten enough chimera to last a lifetime,’ Regina replies, and Emma laughs, a short, sharp laugh that echoes oddly through the streets.

‘So, we have a better plan than attack and hope for the best?’

Regina shrugs.

‘It worked well enough for your parents,’ she says. Emma snorts.

‘Sore loser,’ she says, but without any bite.

They arrive at Granny’s, where they had arranged to meet up with everyone else. All together, they make about fifty, which is less than they need but more than they expected, and Regina can see that most of them are trained in some kind of warfare.

Ruby and Granny are sharpening a wicked looking sword in the corner of the room, and the dwarves are engaged in some kind of argument about the best attack formation in a melee. The room is full of bustling, tense activity, and-

‘Kathryn?’ Regina catches sight of a familiar blonde head and hurries toward her. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Helping,’ Kathryn says with a raised eyebrow. ‘You?’

‘I thought you left,’ she says.

‘I was going to. But Frederick is staying. And I can help.’ She lifts the bundle in her arms to show what looks like the contents of several first aid kits. ‘We’re probably going to need all the help we can get before this is over,’ she says, and Regina is reminded of the fake life the Witch had forced her into, the easy friendship and simplicity. She misses it, for a second, and hates herself for it.

‘Good luck,’ she says.

‘You’ll need it more than I will,’ Kathryn says. She seems to hold an internal war for a few seconds, and then she reaches forward and pulls Regina into a tight if quick hug. ‘You be careful,’ she says, eyes sharp with care. ‘I don’t want to have to miss you.’

And she is gone, moving through the crowd quickly.

 

*

 

‘The plan is simple,’ David says. ‘Regina will draw her out, and keep her distracted. Emma will help. The rest of us will destroy any defences we can reach and do what we can to bring her down.’

It’s a fool’s plan. But they are all sleep deprived, and on edge, and there is no sense in waiting for the Witch to strengthen her position and attack again.

There is some shuffling at the mention of her name, but people keep silent, maybe remembering the battle before, maybe reading the tight line of her jaw and Emma’s solid presence behind her and deciding it’s not worth the fight.

 

*

 

It turns out war is a muscle memory that she’s always going to possess. Whether they are in a forest, or in a field, or marching down the main street in small town America, the feeling is the same, the tautness of spine and rush of adrenaline that’s like nothing else in the world.

They creep slowly up to the Mayor’s office, where several scouts had reported seeing the Witch.

(She’ll wait for us, Regina had said. She was just playing before. She won’t give us the advantage again)

And Regina conjures a fireball and sets the lawn ablaze.

‘Subtle,’ Emma says. They enter the building, and make it to the Mayor’s office unscathed.

And the Witch appears, smiling as ever, and Regina pins her down with a vine she conjures from thin air.

‘You overstepped, dear,’ she says. ‘You caught us by surprise. Never again.’ She flicks her wrist, and the Witch flies in a neat arc as the vine flings her away.

She stands, her face a mask of fury, and throws a bookshelf at their group. Regina deflects it easily.

There is an inhuman screech, and the monkeys reappear, clawing and biting.

‘Go,’ Regina mutters, and the group scatters to form a tight circle around the Witch. The monkeys attack, and the room explodes with the noise of war.

The Witch throws the desk at her, and again Regina flicks it aside.

‘You fool,’ she says. ‘You challenge us when you have so little power.’

She is gloating, mostly, but there is a small, careful part of her that is warning her that something is very wrong. Then the Witch smiles and steps forward, and grabs Frederick by the throat.

‘Little power of my own, maybe,’ the Witch agrees, and the buzz of warning has grown to a blazing klaxon. ‘But there are always ways to get more.’

Her grip tightens on Frederick’s throat as he kicks at her ineffectually. She breathes in, and Frederick stiffens, and shrivels, until he is half his size, a small, wrinkled thing that looks nothing like the man he was.

‘Shit,’ Emma breathes. The Witch glows with power, her aura so bright that even the soldiers are wincing, and she hardly looks at Frederick as she drops what is left of him on the ground.

‘Yes,’ the Witch agrees. Her arms come up, hands outstretched as if braced for an impact, and her magic bursts out, swollen with stolen life force and eager to be used.

The blast hits them like a speeding train, and Regina feels her body crumple and unconsciousness steal her away, and the last thing she is aware of before everything goes black is Emma crumpling to the floor beside her.

 

*

 

She wakes to find herself bound to a wall, and she suffers through momentary panic before she remembers where she is, and why.

She feels sore all over, but she turns her head to see the rest of her sorry group incapacitated; either bound to the wall or resting in untidy piles on the ground. David and Emma are slumped together, and Ruby glares from across the room. She fights, but whatever binds her to the wall is too strong, even for her.

‘Finally,’ the Witch says. Her voice is a lazy drawl that seems to carry across the room in an effortless way. She wanders across the room and picks up a soldier whose name Regina doesn’t know. She puts her hands around her neck, and squeezes, and Regina can see her aura flash and grow with the increase of power.

The Witch turns, and smiles, and Regina knows that that little show was for her benefit.

‘If I asked you how you did that,’ she starts, her voice hoarse, ‘would you tell me?’

‘Would you?’ She flicks her wrists and moves the dead bodies across the room with a brisk efficiency.

‘No,’ Regina admits.

‘Some things,’ the Witch looks up. Her eyes are greener than ever, if that is possible, ‘are too precious to share.’ She shakes the long sleeves of her dress back and bares her arms to the light. Her skin is crisscrossed with raised, thin scars that stretch to the palms of her hands. ‘The price of power,’ the Witch explains. ‘The things I had to do, Regina...’

Oddly enough, it’s the familiar use of her first name that irritates her. ‘Why are you telling me this?’ she snaps.

‘I need you to understand how much I gave for this. How important this is to me.’

‘Why?’ Her magic is only just out of reach, and she strains, pushes harder than she ever has before to reach just the smallest drop of it.

‘This town,’ she Witch says, ‘is yours. You built it. Your family bled for it. And I want it. But I can’t have it without you, do you see?’

‘You need me,’ she says. Out of the corner of her eye she sees David wobble to his feet and get a determined grip on his sword.

‘Unfortunately,’ the Witch says. ‘But it doesn’t have to be as unpleasant as all this. I can share.’

Regina pretends to consider the proposal while David sneaks behind the Witch. His footsteps are far more nimble than she would have given him credit for, and soon he is within swinging distance. He stabs forward, and the Witch dodges out of the way without even looking back, because it would never be that easy.

The momentary distraction gives Regina the opportunity she needs to wrest her magic back and break the spell holding her to the wall, and she frees the others- the ones who are still alive- as fast as she can.

And then the battle starts for real. Emma staggers to her feet and stands with her back against a wall, fighting off the flying monkeys that have appeared from nowhere, and everyone else in the hall takes up the best defensive positions they can. But they are losing; the Witch was playing before but she is deadly serious now, her face a mask of impassive concentration as she rains devastating magical blows down on Regina and anyone who stands too close.

And that’s when Regina realises how much the Witch had been playing with them before. She won’t be able to hold her back for much longer, and she can feel herself weakening every second.

But them Emma is there, and they are linking hands, and they are more than strong enough, together, to at least keep her back.

‘We needed a plan,’ Emma grits out. ‘Why don’t we ever have a fucking plan?’

But maybe they will get away this time, because she can feel that they are winning, there are infinitesimal shifts in power that means that they are gaining –

\- But the Witch simply drains another hapless soldier, and she knocks them over and sends them sprawling down the hallway, and Emma’s hand is wrenched out of hers and Regina watches with her heart in her mouth as she is floated towards the Witch.

‘Let her go,’ Regina says hoarsely, when Emma is wrapped securely in the Witch’s arms, her back to the Witch’s front.

‘I’m getting tired of this,’ the Witch sighs. ‘It’s not fun anymore.’

There is what feels like an impenetrable wall separating Regina from Emma and the Witch. She can’t cross it, either physically or with magic, and neither can anyone else, judging from David and Ruby’s increasingly desperate efforts to get to them.

‘I’m going to kill her,’ the Witch explains. ‘Right now.’ Emma’s eyes burn with anger; she kicks her feet weakly, but the Witch doesn’t seem to notice. ‘Make the right choice,’ the Witch says. ‘Join me. Or don’t fight me, at least.’

_‘She’s going to find us,’ Regina says. ‘We have to get out, now.’_

_Emma holds Henry’s hand in hers, and she drags him down the stairs, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder._

_‘Snow?’ Emma asks._

_‘Waiting at the loft. Emma, move.’_

_The Witch has already taken control of most of the town, Regina can see by simply peering out of the window, and they hurry up to Snow’s apartment. Regina breathes for the first time in what seems like hours when Snow shows them a secret cache of beans._

 

She can’t break through the wall. But it isn’t perfect. There are weak spots, and she finds one and worries at it with her magic as quietly as she can.

‘Regina.’ The Witch’s hands squeeze. Emma’s face turns grey. ‘I don’t want to play. I need Storybrooke.’ Her gaze goes dreamy. ‘The Enchanted Forest would be nice, too. I like the green.’

She can’t think of Henry, most likely exploring all the castles and woods of the forests. She won’t, because then she won’t be able to work at scraping a way through the wall. Nothing big, nothing flashy. Just a pinprick. That’s all she’ll need.

 

‘ _We need to get Henry out,’ Regina says. The ship rocks uneasily beneath her._

_‘We need to save the town,’ Snow argues._

_‘After my son is safe,’ Regina snaps. She drops a bean into the water and a whirlpool begins to suck them down almost immediately._

_And then the Witch is among them, whipping Emma and Henry away from the group, and Regina leaps after them, off the boat._

 

When she finally bores a hole through the wall, she is exhausted. She locks her muscles to stop them from trembling and stares straight ahead.

‘And maybe when I’m done with the Enchanted Forest, I’ll go back to Oz,’ the Witch purrs. ‘Pay dear Glinda a visit.’

 

*

 

Regina has never been on the side of Good. Never known what goodness really means.

‘Emma,’ she says, quietly, and Emma focuses bloodshot eyes on her. ‘Emma. I love you.’ It’s the first time she’s ever told her that.

Regina may not understand goodness, but she understands love, and sacrifice. Better than she should ever have had to.

She knows that her eyes say _I’m going to hurt you badly_ and Emma’s eyes hold nothing but acceptance. The perpetual sacrificial lamb.

‘I know,’ Emma says.

‘The Evil Queen’s True Love,’ the Witch says softly. ‘Who knew.’

‘Indeed,’ Regina says. She focuses all her power on the pinprick of light, and a discarded sword hovers unsteadily, hidden by a pile of debris. She takes a breath, and makes a fist, and the sword flies straight and true, through the miniscule hole in the shield, at a steady angle upwards. It sinks into Emma with a sick crunch and keeps going, impaling the Witch through the chest. Regina can feel the Witch’s heart cleave in two, feel the barrier drop as she dies.

There is silence in the hall as Emma and the Witch topple backwards. And Regina scrambles forward on barely-there legs to where Emma lies motionless on the Witch’s corpse.

Regina can feel her dying, feel her magic leave her broken body, and she lurches forward and presses her hands against the wound.

‘Emma,’ she says, ‘Emma, Emma,’ and she is kissing her cheeks and hair and bloody lips and still Emma is dying, spilling red over her hands and it hurts enough that maybe Regina is dying too.

_The Witch has them, has pushed Snow and the others through the portal and Henry is screaming, and she is hurting them, Regina can see-_

_‘Let them go!’_

_Only she can’t get them back, why is the Witch so strong? Panic fuels her anger, and she thinks, away, pushes them to where they’ll be safe, and they are gone._

_‘That... wasn’t what I was planning,’ the Witch says. ‘But this works too.’_

_A cool hand touches her forehead, and she drifts, and she wakes with no idea what she’s doing on the dock in the middle of the night._


	5. Chapter 5

The room that Regina sits in is cramped and dark. There is barely enough space for the narrow bed and uncomfortable chair that she is perched on, but she barely notices. All she can see is Emma lying in the bed, pale and utterly still.

She doesn’t touch her, doesn’t so much as hold her hand, but she sits ramrod straight, unconsciously adopting the posture her mother had drilled into her all those years ago, and waits.

Because Emma is going to wake up; because Regina had reached her hand inside her chest and knitted her together in her most gentle use of magic. It had felt like balancing a football on a pin, like flinging herself off a high cliff, and she had held her breath until she felt Emma’s heart begin to beat again.

‘How is she?’

David appears at her right shoulder, and she startles. She didn’t even hear the door open.

‘The same,’ she says. He nods, a jerky, exhausted movement that only makes her sit up straighter.

‘She’s gonna be okay,’ he says, with the foolish optimism that follows people like him around like a plague. She would sneer, normally, but Emma has been comatose for three days and she badly needs some of that optimism for herself.

She doesn’t reply, and he lingers a while longer, sitting on the other side of Emma before standing and kissing her forehead. He has to leave, he explains. He has a town to help, survivors to settle and people to lead, and Regina has never been more grateful to be the Evil Queen. Evil Queens can be selfish; they can sit by their lover’s bedside and not concern themselves with anyone else.

David leaves, and the room is quiet once more, and Regina places her hand on the bed. It’s not quite holding, but it’s close.

 

*

 

Two more days, and Emma hasn’t woken. A small part of her tells her that it’s her presence that’s stopping Emma from waking. No one wants to wake to see the face of their attempted murderer.

So leave then, she tells herself, but she can’t go further than the end of the corridor. She comes back, almost running, and lowers herself back into her chair.

‘I’ve never stopped you from doing anything you want to do,’ she says. ‘So goddammit Emma, wake up. Don’t use me as an excuse.’

And she reaches forward and lifts Emma’s hand from the bed. She holds it tight, noting the warmth, and the unusual slackness, and presses it to her lips.

 

*

 

Emma wakes on day five, when David tells her that the people who fled to the Enchanted Forest are coming back.

‘Not all of them,’ he says. ‘But at least half.’

So the town will be full again. Full of people who she hates, and very few she likes, and Henry, who is the only person other than Emma she has thought about in the last week. And maybe the hospital will be full of doctors and nurses again, and they will stop having to make do with the few people who stayed behind.

She is thinking about this, and hoping the boat will be back soon, because she has missed her son, when there is a gentle brushing against her hand. She looks up to see Emma, eyes barely open, but there, alert, stroking the back of her hand with her finger.

She should call the doctor, she knows. Call David, call someone. But she sits there dumbly and tightens her grip around Emma’s hand and smiles for what feels like the first time in years.

‘Hi,’ Regina whispers. Emma’s lips turn up in a faint smile.

‘Hi,’ she says, almost inaudibly, and her eyes slip shut again.

 

*

 

The sword missed Emma’s heart, just barely, but it sheared her left lung apart and broke at least three ribs. Regina’s magic saved her life, but there is a limit to what she can do. So there will be a painful recovery period, and a long convalescence. It all seems doable, until she walks in on a nurse changing Emma’s bandages.

The wound is long, ugly and jagged, stretching from the bottom of her ribs to almost level with her navel, and Regina stares for a long, horrible moment before she turns on her heel and walks out.

She makes it to the nearest bathroom before retching into the toilet. _I did that_ , she thinks. She can hear the crunch of the sword breaking Emma’s ribs, the forced exhale as the sword hits her lungs, and-

She bends forward and retches again, keeps her eyes open and takes measured breaths until she can stand and walk out of the hospital.

 

*

 

She finds it easy to bury herself in work, after that.

Officially, she has been removed as Mayor of Storybrooke, but the town is in pieces, and David’s leadership ability doesn’t stretch much further than rousing speeches and bravery in battle, so there is a great deal to do.

The town needs repairs, and people will have to go back to their normal jobs at some point, if they want to stay in Storybrooke. She busies herself with budget balancing and talking to the people who have the skills and knowledge to make Storybrooke a functional town again.

She drives past the hospital without going in, and when she goes home she goes straight to bed without looking into Henry’s room, or glancing into her study. She curls up in bed, and oddly, misses Pongo, who always slept at the end of the bed for the few months that he was hers.

She was a good Mayor, despite everything, and it’s even easier to get things accomplished now. It turns out that fighting alongside a group of people is a very easy way to earn some trust. Even her injuring the Saviour doesn’t seem to have made much difference, something which she suspects is David’s doing.

And there is Kathryn, whose husband was killed in the battle. The mass funeral had been held two days after Emma had woken up, and Regina had left the hospital to attend. She stood near the back for the blessing and the lighting of the flames, and afterwards Kathryn had found her, still crying, and hugged Regina tight.

Kathryn wept, and they stood alone on the beach until the fires had died down.

‘Thank you for killing her,’ Kathryn had said as they walked back to her cars. Regina didn’t know what to say. She’d never had to accept thanks for killing before.

Kathryn is a mess, and Regina understands the pain of losing your love better than most, and she makes it a point to drop by and make sure that Kathryn is eating and sleeping.

It’s a busy schedule, and a week goes by before she realises that she hasn’t seen Emma since she walked out of her hospital room.

 

*

 

‘She’s not eating,’ David says. By now Regina has gotten used to his habit of creeping up behind her and she doesn’t look up from the building plans in front of her. They will need a new town hall, and municipal building, sooner rather than later.

‘She can be stubborn,’ Regina says. She writes a careful sentence on the notepad in front of her and readjusts her glasses.

‘So can you,’ he says. ‘Look, I don’t understand why you’re staying away. I don’t care why, as long as you stop. Just go see her.’

Regina puts down her pen, and looks him in the eyes for the first time since he entered her temporary office.

‘Why do you care?’ she asks. He blinks in confusion, which is not an unfamiliar look on his face, Regina thinks uncharitably.

‘What?’

‘Why do you care?’ she repeats. ‘Why do you want me there? Near your child? Are you willing to forget thirty-five years of history so easily?’ He sighs.

‘It’s not about me. And it’s not really about you,’ he says. I care about my daughter. And she’s not going to get any better if she keeps pining for you.’

She snorts at that, even as the guilt she feels at staying away increases.

‘Emma doesn’t pine,’ she says.

‘She does,’ he replies. ‘It’s not good for her.’

‘And I am?’

Momentary pain crosses his face; they have a good working relationship. She has never hated him as she hated Snow White, but thirty five years of fighting is too much to forget so quickly.

‘... Yes,’ he says finally. ‘You are. So, go, make it a five minute visit.’ He turns to leave.

‘David, wait.’ He looks back, expectant. ‘You don’t trust me,’ she says, and he inclines his head. ‘But you trust me with her. Why?’

‘I saw your face,’ he says. ‘When you sent the sword at them.’

She doesn’t want to ask, because she doesn’t want to know, and besides, the pity on David’s face gives her a pretty clear idea.

‘Go see her,’ he says softly, and he leaves her sitting in her chair, the building plans completely forgotten.

 

*

 

She is out of the door and into her car in ten minutes, and the General hospital is only a ten minute drive away. Her feet take her to Emma’s room on autopilot, and she knocks, and enters, to find Emma propped up in bed, reading a magazine. She puts it down when Regina walks in, her expression unreadable.

‘I came to check on you,’ Regina says finally. Emma shrugs.

‘I’m doing fine,’ she says. ‘Awake and everything.’ She flicks the magazine open. ‘So, thanks for dropping by.’ Her tone is final, dismissive in a way that automatically makes Regina’s feet root to the floor.

‘That’s not what David says,’ she presses. Emma’s face darkens.

‘David doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’ Regina steps closer, and Emma scowls. ‘What, so are you and my dad best friends now? Running off to talk about me behind my back?’

‘No,’ she stresses. ‘He was just worried about you. I am too,’ she adds.

‘Yeah, well, you could have fooled me.’ Emma’s tone is flippant, and Regina had meant to handle this delicately, but her temper flares.

‘I sat by your bedside, for five days, waiting for you to wake up,’ she says, her voice clipped.

‘And you fucked off almost as soon as I woke up,’ Emma says. ‘What, you like me better when I’m asleep?’

Emma is sitting straight now, eyes hard and boring into Regina, clearly ready for a fight, and Regina sighs. One of them has to give, and the sight of Emma like this, petulant and hurt and still fighting, makes it easier than she thought it would be.

‘No,’ she says. ‘Emma.’ She’s needled Emma about her emotional unavailability before, but her words feel like a rock on her tongue. ‘I did this to you, don’t you remember? I almost killed you. You should be furious with me.’

‘I am,’ Emma admits. ‘For a lot of things. You ran away. That’s supposed to be my thing.’

‘I can’t - couldn’t be here,’ Regina says, but she is walking forward and sitting on her bed, her actions a direct contradiction to her words.

‘But I wanted you to be,’ Emma says. ‘And I kept waking up, and you weren’t.’ Emma’s voice slips into a childish cadence, and Regina reaches forward and places her hand on her knee.

‘I couldn’t be here,’ she says again. ‘Emma, I almost killed you.’

‘I knew what you were gonna do,’ Emma says. ‘Well, I knew you were going to do something. And it worked, okay? Hurt like hell,’ she says, her smile crooked, ‘but it worked.’

Emma’s kindness makes tears well in her eyes, and she tries to blink them away, mortified. A warm hand covers hers. ‘Don’t cry,’ Emma says, which only makes it worse. Emma tugs her forward gently, and she goes with her, careful to mind her broken ribs.

‘I am still so pissed with you,’ Emma says, but the sting is taken away by the hand stroking through her hair.

‘I know,’ Regina says. Emma’s hospital gown is rough against her cheek, and she turns her head into Emma’s neck.

‘You can’t leave me,’ Emma says, her words punctuated by fierce squeeze to the back of her neck. ‘Or send me away.’

‘Never again,’ she says, and she lifts her head and presses a kiss to Emma’s lips. It’s short, and admittedly not one of their best, but it feels like a promise.

 

*

 

‘Come and stay with me,’ Regina suggests. She stayed the rest of the day, only leaving briefly when Emma fell asleep, and now she’s sitting in her chair at the side of the bed, watching Emma fiddle with her phone.

‘What?’ Bright green eyes stare incredulously, and Regina flushes.

‘You could go back to your apartment and live with your father,’ she says. ‘Or you could stay with me.’ Emma tilts her head, considering. Finally, a slow smile spreads over her face.

‘It’s only been what, six months?’ Emma says. She sounds less surprised, and more curious.

‘Your moronic parents decided to be together forever in the space of about a week,’ Regina points out.

‘You’re not selling this very well,’ Emma says lazily.

‘Do you want to, or not?’ Regina asks impatiently. It seems like their time apart hasn’t made Emma any less infuriating.

‘Yeah, I do,’ Emma says and kisses her.

 

*

 

Henry comes back two weeks after they killed the Witch, to find Emma almost ready to come home. David has been sending messages between realms using enchanted parchment that Rumpelstiltskin had left with them.

‘Write on one, and the message appears on the other,’ he had explained. It will fade within a day of reading, and you can reply.’ It isn’t as fast as Regina would like, but it is sufficient to let her know that Henry is well. He writes to tell her about his classes, and the friends he’s made, and all the fun he’s having, and she keeps back the worry that he will want to stay, and writes back, telling him about the repairs to the town. She glosses over mention of Emma’s injury. That’s a conversation to be had in person.

He writes to tell her that their ship is coming back, with a significant amount of Storybrooke’s population.

 _I think a lot of people really miss electricity and cars and stuff_ , he wrote. _And the ogres are kind of scary_.

He also tells her that Snow has decided to have the baby in the Enchanted Forest, and she hopes to see David soon. Regina contemplates whether or not to show the letter to Emma, and she decides against it in the end, opting to tell her in person, after dinner.

She is sitting at the end of the hospital bed, where she spends most of her free time these days, when she tells Emma. Emma’s face falls, then she shrugs and turns back to the ice cream Regina had snuck in for her.

‘Makes sense,’ she says. ‘She’s probably dying to have a real kid.’

And Regina could throttle Snow White for not seeing the harm she is doing to Emma. But she had forgotten that it’s the ones who Snow White loves that she hurts the most.

‘Your mother is a spoiled princess, and the birds are welcome to her,’ is the best way that she can think to express her feelings without the use of swearing or explosive magic, but Emma looks grateful all the same.

 

*

 

She goes to meet him at the dock, and he is in court clothes, rich reds lined with purple that make him look older and younger at the same time. He hugs her when he sees her, and doesn’t let go when she expects, burrowing his head into her collarbone and holding on tight.

‘Don’t send me away again,’ he mumbles into her coat. And her heart breaks to think this is the same boy who would have done anything to get away from her two years ago.

‘Never,’ she promises, her heart aching at the reminder of a similar promise she had made to Emma. ‘Never again.’

 

*

 

And soon the town is busy again, full of returning residents and cautiously reopening businesses. Regina still isn’t Mayor, but no one else seems to be interested in running the town and she continues to keep it ticking over, because her son will not live in a shoddily-run town.

‘You do already have twenty eight years of practice,’ Kathryn says, when they meet for lunch.

‘And I’m sure you remember, I’m nothing if not a perfectionist,’ she says, because even though Regina the Lawyer was nothing but a short–lived lie, it had been a good fit for her.

‘Our fictional law firm probably had the best-kept records in town,’ Kathryn says with a small smile, which is about as close as they can get to joking about it. A month later, Kathryn looks better, but Regina can see the raw spots, the carefully hidden grief.

‘You should come over for dinner,’ she says, suddenly. ‘This week.’ Kathryn looks at her, shocked, before composing herself quickly.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Kathryn says, shaking her head.

‘I want to,’ she replies, because Kathryn has been her friend in two fake realities, and she would like to know what it’s like to be her friend for real. ‘I would love the company. I don’t think I can handle another night of Emma and Henry debating superhero movies.’ It’s something Emma does because she genuinely cares, but also because she loves to annoy Regina, even now, when things are better between them than they have ever been.

‘Well, then, I would love to,’ Kathryn says.

 

*

 

Living with Emma isn’t what she expected. She leaves her dirty coffee cups in the sink, and her boots by the stairs, but everything else is neatly put away in the wardrobe space Regina cleared out for her.

For such a loud, sloppy nuisance, she takes up very little space in the house itself, and Regina wonders at that until she remembers her history of moving, and adapting to other people’s homes.

Emma doesn’t cook, but she cleans, and she hates gardening.

She loves Henry dearly, Regina can tell, but the breaking of the memory spell has fractured their relationship a little.

('It’s all mixed up in my head,' Henry had confessed one night when they were both up late and she was making hot chocolate. 'It was all fake, right? You made her love me that much with your spell.'

'Magic can’t create love where it doesn’t exist,' she had said, but he had looked doubtful and she hated herself a little for allowing her son to suffer again.)

Emma too, has lost the easy familiarity that twelve years of implanted memories of motherhood had given her, and Regina is reminded strongly of the lost expression Emma had when she had just moved to Storybrooke, when Henry would look at her for help and she wouldn’t know what to do.

So Regina finds herself in the odd position of being the one to mend their relationship, and she mostly lets it grow by itself, because Emma and Henry are alike in the best ways. Only this time, there is space for her too, and it feels better than she’ll ever be able to say.

 

*

 

Snow White has the baby on a Sunday afternoon, when Emma and Regina are in the backyard watching Henry kick a soccer ball around the garden.

David comes rushing in, out of breath from running, only one shoe on.

‘It’s a girl,’ he says, eyes bright with excitement. ‘We want to call her Eva.’

And Regina breathes a secret sigh of relief, because she knows that Snow would have insisted on calling the baby Leopold of it had been a boy, and she doesn’t know if she would have been able to handle that.

But Emma’s face is frozen in an approximation of happiness, her hand clenched around the armrest of the garden chair.

‘That’s great, David,’ Emma says, with forced cheer.

‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ he says, barely able to contain his excitement. He holds Emma in a strong hug and gives Henry a pat on the back before leaving.

Emma is quiet the rest of the day, and when they get into bed she turns towards Regina, jaw clearly clenched even in the dim light. She opens her mouth to say something, and changes her mind and closes it again. Regina waits until it is clear that Emma won’t be able to say anything at all, before she gathers her into a hug.

Emma comes easily, her limbs unresisting, and Regina strokes her arms, her hair, her face. She doesn’t know what to say, but Emma doesn’t seem to want her to talk, and her hands trace a path in gentle circles around Emma’s back.

Emma starts to fall asleep with Regina’s hands in her hair, her face tucked into Regina’s neck and her arms locked around her tight. Regina feels hot tears drop onto the skin of her shoulder and pulls away just far enough to kiss her gently.

‘You have a family,’ she whispers.

‘I know I do,’ Emma says quietly. ‘It still hurts.’

‘I know,’ Regina says.

 

*

 

And then they are going to their final doctors’ appointment, and Emma is given a clean bill of health.

‘You can go back to work, now,’ Dr. Whale says. Regina isn’t comfortable with him here, in their town and lives, but it’s recently been pointed out to her that being interim Mayor is not the same as being dictator, and she can’t kick people out because she doesn’t like them.

They are barely in the door before Emma is kissing her, hard, pinning her against the door with her body and pulling at her clothes with eager hands.

Regina responds in kind, pushing Emma’s jacket (not leather) off her shoulders and running her fingers up and down her arms, pulling her hair so she can reach her neck. ‘It’s been - too fucking long,’ Emma says between gasps, as Regina lays hot kisses up and down her neck.

Regina takes a spare second to be grateful that Henry is out for the afternoon before Emma grabs her hips and walks her backwards into the living room, not stopping until her knees hit the sofa. Her hips press insistently into Regina’s, sending overwhelming heat from her stomach out to the tips of her fingers.

‘Upstairs,’ she gasps, as Emma’s fingers find her belt.

‘Later,’ Emma says, and she leans forward and kisses Regina’s collarbone in a way that makes her yield to the hands gently pushing her down onto the sofa. She wrestles Emma’s tank top off, and presses against the strong thigh pressing between her legs, when her fingers brush against a raised line below Emma’s ribcage. She remembers what it is, and freezes.

‘Get off me,’ she says, and fights to get out from under Emma. Emma scrambles away, confusion painted all over her face.

‘What is it?’ Regina can only stare at the jagged pink scar that sits just under Emma’s ribcage. The reminder is like being dragged from a warm bed and thrown into an ice bath, and she wants to leave. She wants to go to her office and drown in paperwork for the next week.

Emma follows her eyes to her torso, and she crosses her arms self-consciously.

‘You’ve seen it before,’ she points out. Which she has; she’s even helped Emma change her bandages. But there is something about seeing the scar there, after it’s all supposed to be over, that makes her sick to her stomach.

‘I don’t understand how you can forgive me,’ she says. Her voice comes out harsher than she means to.

‘The other stuff... I’m still working on that,’ she says. ‘But this?’ And she lowers her arms to reveal the scar. ‘That’s the easiest one.’

‘I almost killed you,’ she says. Why can’t Emma understand that?

‘And you saved Henry from that... woman,’ Emma replies. ‘I would let you stab me a thousand times over for that.’ Regina flinches.

‘Don’t joke,’ she says sharply.

‘I wasn’t. Here -’ and Emma reaches forward and pulls Regina’s hand towards her, placing her palm on the scar. Her fingers curl away, but Emma holds tighter.

‘No, don’t,’ she says, and Regina gives in and feels the warmth of Emma’s skin, feels the slightly faster than usual beating of her heart. ‘I’m not going anywhere, okay?’ Emma says. ‘And you’re not, either. Neither is this.’

And they sit there, and Regina stares into Emma’s eyes and feels her guilt ebb into something more manageable, and Emma notices the change and smiles.

‘We’re gonna be okay, right?’ Emma asks, and Regina’s heart feels lighter than it has in decades.

‘Of course we are,’ she replies, and for the first time in months, she believes it.


End file.
